


Heat And Panic

by PerduEtSeul



Category: King Arthur (2004)
Genre: Bad Dreams, Death, Hurt, M/M, Nightmares, UST, War, but not really, comfort (one sided), lonely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 05:38:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11983302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerduEtSeul/pseuds/PerduEtSeul
Summary: What if it was all a dream?





	Heat And Panic

He didn't see the blow that caused it. He didn't see the man that delivered it. Nor which direction it had even come from.

All he saw was Tristan fall.

His body hitting the ground like his strings had been cut. And he knew that his closest friend would be dead before he could even reach his side.

Less than one hundred yards away Tristan took his final shuddering breath and there was nothing that anyone could do.

In battle the fallen are often forgotten even when the army is a small one.

Pick up your losses and regroup.

That was the way it usually was.

Brigantes falling all around them, their number dwindled by more than half. Farmers and sheep herders making up the bulk of their army. No response from Rome in weeks. No troops arriving to help with the burden.

Cutting down Brigantes as he makes his way across the battlefield, red staining his vision. Not from the blood he's shed nor from the blood he's spilled.

Rage, anger, and fear bubble up inside him and he can't ramp it down. Not while his brother's are falling and Tristan takes his last shuddering breaths.

Sliding from his horse, knees hitting the blood soaked earth hard next to the warrior he'd only started to know.

Just as he reaches to take Tristan's hand those smokey amber eyes fall shut for the last time, turning his face to the skies just as a freezing rain begins to fall. Paying no head to the battle cries and clanging of swords against shields as he screams silently, raging against the gods who bright them here to die.

A tug at his hand brings his attention back down to Tristan's lifeless body, wide blue eyes looking on as that blood soaked patch of dirt begins to swallow his body. Like the earth is just splitting open and Tristan is melting into it. Screaming as he digs into the soft ground, desperate to gain purchase on his friend.

 

It was those screams that woke him. Breathing quick and heart pounding as he sits up in his own rack, furs damp from the sweat that rolled off of his body. With a shaking hand he reaches out and grabs a pitcher of water, drinking directly from the lip. Paying no mind as the water spills out and down his tunic, already soaked from the sweat of his nightmare.

Rising from his bed, his feet carry him towards Tristan's room. He just needs to see his friend breathing and whole.

Pushing open the door with minimal sound as he slips inside.

Tristan lays curled on his side, back facing the door, completely secure within their walls. His breathing is even and unlabored, even snoring intermittently.

The wave of relief that washes over him nearly makes his knees buckle, finding that he can't retreat back to his own room and damp bed. Not after what he saw, what he felt.

Sitting lightly on the edge of Tristan's rack for a moment before laying down behind him, tentatively reaching out to lay his hand flat on Tristan's back.

The steady drum of his friend's heart brings him more calm and steadiness, his own racing heart slowing back to a gallop and his breaths become more even.

He'll be gone by morning, he thinks as his eyes slip closed, sleep drawing him under once again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments give me life.


End file.
